


A Refined Palate

by jazzypizzaz



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Quark is gross and silly, face licking is a Quodo fic trope now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 07:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7835713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzypizzaz/pseuds/jazzypizzaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odo encounters a drunken Quark in the hall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Refined Palate

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Blueshift](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782748) by [Paratale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paratale/pseuds/Paratale). 



> This happens sometime after Crossfire.

Odo is meandering through the habitat ring on a late night patrol when he hears the unmistakable erratic rhythm of a drunkard stumbling back to their bed.  Why humanoids would deliberately impair their already vulnerable fixed-state forms is beyond him; as far as he can figure, it just creates more work for security.  The large ears of the approaching sloshed solid peek around the corner, and Odo heaves with the changeling equivalent of a groan.

 

“Odo!” says a gleeful Quark, who zig-zags sharply into the wall in his attempt to reach Odo, and instead props himself up against it in what he probably thinks is a suave recovery.

 

Odo rolls his facsimile of eyes, one humanoid gesture that makes intuitive sense to him.  “Have you been drinking up your own profits?  That's unlike such a competent businessman as yourself.” Odo imbues as much sarcasm as he can into this response, although now that he thinks about it he's never seen Quark partake in his own liquid wares, or certainly not to the point of drunkenness.

 

“You're RIGHT,” Quark half-shouts excitedly.  Odo shushes him-- they’re in a hallway lined with sleeping people behind each door-- and Quark drops his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “You're right, I don't usually drink.  Gotta keep the old noggin--” Quark knocks on the side of his head “--fully func-- _hic_ \-- funcsh-- _hic_ working properly.  Or _you_ will catch me.” Quark jabs his finger dramatically into Odo's chest.  Odo liquifies at the point of contact, enough to suck Quark's hand inside his torso, and Quark hastily yanks it back with a scowl.  “Anyone ever tell you you're a freak?”

 

Odo crosses his arms.  “I always catch you anyway, so if that's your best effort it’s pathetic.” It occurs to him that an uninhibited Quark is an excellent opportunity he should be taking advantage of.  Odo leans in close to Quark, who sucks in a breath and raised his brow ridge expectantly.  “Now exactly _what_ kind of grand scheme do you not expect me to find out about?  What manner of company have you been keeping that has led you to drunken foolery?”

 

Quark lets out a loud spluttering noise right in Odo's face that shifts into snickering laughter. “Wouldn't you like know! You can't trick me!” Odo shushes him again sharply, and Quark schools his face into a ridiculous approximation of seriousness.  He solemnly places a hand on Odo's shoulder and whispers, “Okay, I'll tell you, but it's a secret though, so you can't tell anyone else.”  Odo narrows his eyes, but Quark beckons Odo closer with his other hand, and Odo leans in until his face is inches from Quark's, curiosity getting the better of him.

 

Quark takes a deep breath, like he's about to admit a dark confession, then licks from Odo's jaw up to his forehead, leaving a stripe of spit shimmering on his cheek.

 

“You should see your face!” Quark cackles horribly, falling to the ground with the force of his belly laughter, while Odo works his way from astonishment to fuming irritation.  “Wait, you probably _could_ see your own face, if you shifted into the Rigelian Swamp Snail.”  Quark mimics wiggly eye stalks on the side of his head with his fingers and this sends him off into another round of giggling.

 

“Give me one good reason I shouldn't lock you up for assaulting a security officer,” Odo grumbles at him, scowling, and wipes his face in disgust.

 

“I just wanted to see what you tasted like,” Quark says, his mouth sneaking into a mischievous grin.  Odo is familiar with this grin, although since it usually precedes Quark slipping an arm around the waist of a wealthy-looking dame and whispering sweet-nothings until she either slaps him or spends too much money gambling, it makes him uncomfortable to have it directed it him.

 

“Well, what _did_ I taste like?” Odo asks despite himself, out of genuine curiosity.  He tends to forget about such humanoid experiences, and it's not exactly a quality Dr Mora studied in the lab. “And how does that interest you, anyway?” he adds petulantly.

 

Quark smacks his lips, and Odo regrets fueling the little troll’s obnoxiousness.  “Hmm… Hard to say.  Maybe I should have another taste--” Quark says, waggling his brow ridge and tottering to his feet.

 

“ _No_.”

 

“ _Fine_.  Be that way."  Quark pouts then licks his lips.  "Hmm, it's kinda the absence of taste?  Like water or air, but not.” Quark looks thoughtful for a moment, then his face lights up with glee. “It’s like you're the beige of tastes!” he says, then giggles at his own cleverness.

 

“Hrrmph.”

 

“No it's good though, I like it."  Quark pats him on the shoulder in consolation, grinning at Odo’s pained expression.  "And as a professional bartender, I have a refined palate.  But I'll leave you to guess why I wanted to know!” he says, shuffling past Odo to head down the hall.

 

“ _Quark_ ,” Odo growls.  “You’re going the wrong way.  Your quarters are in the opposite direction.”

 

“Right, of course.  And that’s where I’m going now, to sleep.”  Quark winks at Odo as he turns on his heel, hand outstretched towards to wall for balance as he totters on his way to his room, glancing back with a silly grin at Odo as he leaves.  “This is me, going off to bed, to dream about Risian jello shots a la Odo! Now I'll be able to taste if it's you, spying on me in my drinks.”

 

“I don’t investigate you by hiding in your cocktails!”  Odo bristles, calling after Quark in indignation.  “At least I won't anymore!”

 

“Too bad,” Quark says with a leer, slipping into his room, thus leaving Odo with the grossed out thoughts of Quark drinking him out of a shot glass.

 

Alone in the hallway once more, Odo vaguely wonders if a certain red-headed major would relish -- or even be as nonchalant about-- Odo’s apparent tastelessness as Quark was, or if she would find that aspect of him objectionable.  Annoyed at the thought of Quark smacking his lips in delight, Odo vibrates the goo that comprises his cheek, hoping to fling off any remainders of the little Ferengi still on there.   

 

He then huffs in further irritation at the realization that Quark had successfully distracted Odo from prying any secret schemes out of him in his inebriated state.  “You’re slipping, Constable,” he grumbles to himself.  “Keep to the essentials.”


End file.
